NOTE: This post is being written at 3AM after I've hardly slept in 4 days and just downed like half a bottle of Benadryl.

I'm covered in itchy red swollen skin... because god hates me. I just know I'm going to go to the allergist Wednesday and he's gonna tell me I'm lactose intolerant. (How sure am I? I took the time to make the word know bold AND italic).

That will bring me up to being unable to eat sugar, dairy & my beloved milk, bread, hamburgers, deepdish pizza, and reeses cups... but I'll still be fat. Because god hates me.

And if that is the case, then Wednesday night I'm going to go buy 1 pound of red skittles and a small bag of blue skittles and a small bag of the new smoothie skittles and I'm going to pour them all into a big lime-green bowl and I'm going to sit down with a gallon of 2% milk and I'm going to die.

Death by skittles.

If I don't die of my intestines splitting open or choke on my own vomit, then I will die of anaphylactic shock when my throat swells shut. Goodbye cruel world, I hardly knew ye.